


Pan

by marlowe78



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (probably- but it can be read as set before it), BAMF Pepper Potts, F/M, Gen, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, POV Pepper Potts, Pepper Potts background, Pepper and Tony through the years, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Iron Man 3, Women Being Awesome, Won't pass Blechdel-test, i don't care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:21:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29681784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marlowe78/pseuds/marlowe78
Summary: ”You know,”she’d finally answered”I think the fact that I love him is the only reason I can. I wouldn’t be able to ‘handle’ Tony if I didn’t love him. I love him with and sometimes even for his issues, quirks and insane ideas, and if I stopped him doing his superhero-thing, I’d lose him. Maybe not physically, but in all the ways that are important. And if he needs to be out there, I’m damn well making sure he comes back. I couldn’t be as efficient if I didn’t care about him.”Throughout the years of working for Tony, Pepper has learned a lot about him, the world and a little bit about herself.
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 10





	Pan

Pepper wasn’t naïve. 

But she was well aware that a lot of people thought that’s what she was: the naïve, cute redhead, mousy PA in love with her boss. Someone to use as needed, the doormat to walk over, the one who would be put to work for the lazy, foolish brat with all the money, and the pang in her chest when she would have to accompany the flavor-of-the-night to the door. A walking cliché, one of a million women with a helpless, doomed crush on their attractive, charming bosses – and they weren’t _completely_ wrong. She was all that and nothing like that at all, something that those ignorant buffoons would find out the second they met her. It didn’t make sense to her that someone would think she was a pushover. CEO of Stark Industries, one of the biggest companies in the world with a more wide-spread product-list than even Nestlé, and the one who’d rescued it from drowning in lawsuits and compensation-claims after Tony pulled out of the weapons-branch. Not to mention one of two (she didn’t count Stane. She’d erased him from existence and would’ve happily blown him up again) people able to handle Tony Stark on his worst days.

But what made sense in her world, anyway.

She might have started out like that, a little. As the crushing mousy PA. Possibly. She’d looked at Tony – Mr. Stark then – and thought _Great eyes, nice to look at. Pity about the character_. Soon though, she’d come to the conclusion that his outer, very delectably appearance was _nothing_ compared to the thrilling, brilliant, twisted and shining complexity of his insides. 

He sparkled in the sun and under the light of ballrooms and clubs, bright and painful to the eye, opulent and changing, depending on the mood. He glowed like coal at meetings and business-transactions, slow-burning but hot and searing to the touch, sharp-edged words to cut to the core of problems and characters alike. 

But he _shone_ in private, in his workroom or when he was thinking somewhere – wherever – in his house. Focused intensely on a problem, Tony was beautiful in a way few people were. Distant and unreachable, somewhere far away and not from this earth, and the first time Pepper had seen him like that, she’d fallen head over heels. Forget about a crush. This was far worse, and far better at the same time. 

She didn’t like the sparkling diamond of social events, loathed the drunken glamour and while she appreciated every second Tony actually paid attention to his board-meetings, the burning embers only ever came out when something was wrong and she seriously _didn’t_ like it when things went wrong. Otherwise, he very often got too bored to stay awake.

But shining Tony? Inventing Tony? Focused Tony? Sun-in-the-sky-Tony? That Tony, she loved. 

Nowadays she got that shine for herself, too; that intense focus in their bedroom solely pointed at her and she would never-ever complain that he sometimes saw her as one of his projects, like she’d heard more than one woman around her complain about their partners. 

Being one of Tony’s projects was amazing, being the pinpoint of his focus was like nothing else in the world – heady and mindblowing and it made her feel so damn powerful, like she could take over the world. No matter if he was trying to make her gasp in completely new ways or if he was just trying to decide if he preferred her looking like sin so he could brag, or rather hide her away so nobody would steal her from him. Being Tony’s focus was incredible. 

But anyway, she was getting ahead of things.

She was – and had been – smart enough to recognize the differences between outwards-Tony and inwards-Tony, intelligent enough to understand that he was basically a walking, talking bag of issues and sharp enough to see through the asshole-behavior he so reveled in when he was allowed to. But it hadn’t been instant. The layer of Tony Stark’s assholery was very well-knit and in those days had been kept carefully updated.

And so it hadn’t been the first meeting – not even the second one – that had her see clearer. It’d taken time.

*****

The first meeting with Tony Stark was the thing of legends – the young, eager woman correcting the overly-intelligent boss over some accounting-error. Publically. Out loud. Stuff right out of a romance-novel, but true nonetheless.

It had gotten her the job as his PA on the spot, a healthy salary in her future and a lot of headaches to come. 

The second meeting had been in his house the following day, her first on the new job. She’d walked in as she’d been instructed to do and found him standing in the kitchen. Or well, the thing that was supposed to be a kitchen but didn’t look like anyone had ever cooked in it. Ever. He’d been wearing a very rumpled shirt – buttoned up wrong, black socks and blue boxer-shorts. Nothing else. 

His hair’d been a mess and his eyes… to this day, Pepper wouldn’t forget his eyes. Red-rimmed with heavy bags and pupils shot so wide he’d probably been able to see infrared. Tony had been blitzed to kingdom-come, either drunk or drugged or both. He’d stared at her, no recognition, a slow blink the only hint that he wasn’t catatonic. 

_”Mr. Stark?”_ she’d said tentatively, but he hadn’t reacted. So she’d rolled her eyes – while she’d never been one for the tabloids, she’d been well aware of his reputation. You’d have to have been living in a hole somewhere in Antarctica to not know about Tony Stark – went over, grabbed his arm and steered him into the bedroom. It had taken a while to find it, but once there, she’d just shoved him onto the bed and left him. He hadn’t even tried to make a pass at her, and these days Pepper would remember that moment and curse inwardly for not finding it alarming. Of course, now she knew Happy would have brought him home safely, but as high as he’d been, someone could’ve just walked in and taken him away without any hint of resistance. 

Tony’d been a _mess_ , in the worst way possible. 

She’d left him in his bed and tried to sort through his mails –it was what she’d been hired to do, after all. Bills, invitations, more bills and Oh God, two paternity-claims. Pepper’d been staring at them in quiet terror – did Legal of SI cover this? Would she have to call a civil lawyer? Did Stark even _have_ a lawyer? – when someone cleared his voice behind her.

The way she’d squeaked and tried to defend herself by throwing mail at the intruder hadn’t been her finest move, and even now she sometimes blushed in memory of that. Mostly when Rhodey would look at her _like that_. 

Lucky for all of them, the intruder had been Rhodey – Lt. Colonel Rhodes at the time – who’d just grinned a bit warily at her. 

_”Hello there. Are you supposed to read other people’s mail?”_

_“No… no. But yes. I am. PA. His. Mr. Stark’s. Yes. And you are?”_ Another cringeworthy situation – but every great leader had to start somewhere and Pepper’d not slept her way to the top of Stark Industries, no matter what people claimed. She’d earned it, blushes, cringes, sleeplessness, premature worry-lines and all.

Truth be told, Pepper wasn’t sure if she’d have stayed on as Tony’s PA for long if it hadn’t been for James. That day, she hadn’t even seen Stark for longer than it took to get him into bed (haha), but in the following weeks he’d made her consider homicide a lot more often than strictly healthy, not to mention the need for a shiny new tooth-brace as she’d fallen back to her habit of grinding teeth at night. 

But she had met Rhodes, introduced herself correctly and gotten his name in return and then had been left standing in that empty, white living-room with the paternity-claims – Oh God! What if Stark reproduced? – and it had taken her a while to realize that the Colonel hadn’t come back down.

Snooping wasn’t in the job-description, but checking on her new boss’ health was, right?

She’d silently made her way to the bedroom where Pepper found Rhodes leaning against the head-board, legs flat on the bed and Tony Stark sprawled over him like a starfish, mumbling incoherent things while Rhodes was reading some official-looking papers. She must’ve made a noise, or there was truth to the whole sixth sense-thing because Rhodes had looked right at her and his glare had made it very clear that she’d better not say a word about the way his hand was resting on Tony’s neck - and that she’d better leave right this second.

*****

And so it had started, and while she could always remember some defining moments in their relationship, the flow from ‘horrible person’ over ‘not so bad’ into ‘I really like him, for some reason’ had been so sneaky that she hadn’t noticed. One day she’d woken up and realized that she actually _liked_ her asshole-boss and after that, it hadn’t come as a surprise when she’d used the new-gained powers of her position to make a certain woman disappear from the face of the earth – or rather the face of the public, which for that special… _witch_ had been worse than death.

Until then, Pepper hadn’t even known she could be this vicious.

And all that this woman had done was tell stories about Stark. She hadn’t been the first, of course, not even the first during Pepper’s time with SI, but this time it had been different. She’d told very private stories, most of them exaggerated – still not really new – but they had _hurt_ Tony. He’d really liked that lying, scheming, traitorous piece of shit, had really wanted her to like him back. He’d trusted her, and this stupid … person had thrown it away and right into Tony’s face. She’d stomped on his heart for no reason whatsoever – Tony had been _nice_ , had sobered up and made an effort for this … woman. 

Pepper had been furious, and until then she hadn’t even realized that the bubble of ‘protect Tony’ had expanded to two people now (never counting Stane, _never_ ) and that she was one of them. But that day – after bringing Tony home from hospital from a very thorough stomach-pumping, not the first one, but the first where she felt sorry for him – Pepper had learned what she really was capable of, given the right reasons. 

Even these days, she checked up on that … person now and then. And when she got in the mood, the witch would find herself without a job – again. Or evicted. Again. Or… Pepper had a whole list of things she’d one day like to try.

But yes. Virginia Potts, peaceful, gentle, friendly Pepper, had grown as fiercely protective as a she-bear over someone she wouldn’t have had even one kind word for in college. A weapon’s manufacturer. 

The Merchant of Death. 

She’d only taken the job – the first one, not the PA-one – because she’d desperately needed the money to pay her loans and that had been enough incentive to throw all her opinions overboard – or rather put them on hold. 

She hadn’t turned completely around on her beliefs – she still believed in diplomacy as the better solution for solving international issues, was still certain that nothing good could come from arming everyone, still absolutely positive that violence only ever bore more violence. Only a few months before signing up for SI, she’d been marching for peace and a ban on arms-dealing, after all. And while that belief had still been strong, well … desperation was such an ugly thing. So she’d shoved that aside, bought herself a little peace-of-mind through substantial donations of her own and paying a lot of attention to the charities Tony’s company supported. And she had separated the person ‘Tony Stark’ from the person he became when he invented weapons of mass-destruction. It was convenient and entirely wrong, because there wasn’t _really_ much difference. Tony had always been well aware of what he was doing, had simply ignored the fact that his statistics were not numbers but actually _people_ when it came to guns and bombs and rockets. And Pepper had been just as guilty in that regard, yet not been able to cut herself loose from Stark’s magnetic personality. 

‘Magnetic’ was the perfect description, really… He either repulsed you, which happened to most people, or he pulled you in until you couldn’t separate anymore. Funny, how she’d nearly quit when Stark’s new look on business, look on life, had finally merged with her own. Funny, in an entirely unfunny way, how her fear for Tony completely overruled her senses. 

Back in college, she’d have laughed at people even suggesting such a thing. 

Of course Tony had known about her standards. Maybe he had felt it as a grand joke, a big ‘Fuck you, see what I can do?’ to the world at large to be able to entice someone as pacifistic as Pepper to the Dark Side, but she didn’t really think so and hadn’t ever felt anything like that when working with him. He’d never paraded her around or treated her like a prize; Tony had always admired her business-sense and organization-skills and had _loved_ her ability to cut him down a peg in a way that equaled his own sharp tongue. But he hadn’t cared one bit about her personal stand on arms. Maybe there was an insult in there, somewhere, but she never went to look for it and if there was, it didn’t bother her. They’d never had a conversation about it and only once had Tony asked _”Are you aware who you’re working for, Ms Potts?”_. She’d looked up from her papers, surprised, but somehow not. _”I’m always aware when I’m working, Mr. Stark.”_ and Tony had laughed and that had been that. 

Most of her friends from before had called her a traitor to the cause, an opportunistic bitch and worse. She’d not seen the need to defend herself to people who only liked the idea of her, not _her_ , and while it hurt for a while, she’d been fine without close friends. Really. 

Working for Stark had burned the patience for dealing with normal people out of her anyway – their issues seemed trivial in comparison, and she wasn’t selfish enough to just keep people around for only her own good. So every morning she wrapped herself in her own kind of armor, made from silk and fine cotton and holy-shit-expensive leather and went out to fight her own battles – which mostly had been Tony’s but nowadays were completely her own and she loved each fight probably as much as Tony liked his physical battles. The two of them were so similar in some ways, it was a bit disturbing. 

She had two friends left from before SI – Michael Gordon, her personal boy-next-door whom she’d have married the second they were old enough if he weren’t happily gay – and Lilian McHolister, now Deputy-Chief of Police in San Francisco and probably the only person with more shit on her work-schedule than Pepper herself. They were delightfully uncomplicated, never asked for personal stories and took her out and got her raging-drunk about three times a year. They would always listen when she needed to vent as she would for them, but they weren’t _close_ ; not like Rhodey was to Tony and sometimes the unfairness of that still burned her to the core. 

How someone so self-centered, rude and inattentive deserved someone like James Rhodes, someone who would answer the phone from freaking Iraq if Tony called and who would probably put the President on hold for him when her own friends had to pencil in appointments to meet up (as she did, to be fair) was spectacularly cruel. It had taken a while to get over it and understand that Rhodes was the _only_ person Tony had in the world, everyone else was paid and bought and the ones who weren’t didn’t like him and even some of those who were didn’t like him. 

That alone wouldn’t have been so bad. One good friend, especially someone like Rhodey, was plenty, after all. But she’d come to see that Tony _craved_ friendship. As bad luck had wanted it, most of his attempts to keep friends in the past had failed spectacularly, and while she understood on a logical level how that affected his actions, it still made her cringe over the crude methods he used to push-pull people into and out of his orbit. Especially when it involved getting drunk, being rude and sleeping with everyone who wasn’t quick enough to escape. He was on a path to self-destruct, and the only really smart thing he’d done was getting a vasectomy. He claimed it had been to snuff all those expensive paternity-law-suits, but over the years she’d come to the conclusion that he just didn’t want a kid of his out there. 

He was not father-material, he thought, and silently Pepper agreed. Too much child himself, any child of Tony would need an amazing mother to outweigh him, and well… Tony didn’t sleep with amazing mothers, did he? 

Good thing Pepper herself didn’t want children, either. She’d never taken to them, and would have been a terrible mother. 

But no matter Tony’s behavior, she’d learned to not be pushed or pulled and had stayed by his side, no matter what. People like Christine Everhart would never understand the value of loyalty, which is why she only ever got into Tony’s bed. As one of many. 

Hee. Pepper still liked to think of her condescending face whenever she emptied the trash-bin in the kitchen.

*****

Her friendship with Phil Coulson had started as the result of life-shattering terror, of gratitude mostly but for some strange reason it had stayed firm. It began as a battle of wit; two people often overlooked trying to one-up the other, trying to find a foothold in a glacial cliff. Pepper had known that she was a way to get close to Tony Stark, to gather intel from and snoop a bit into the inner core of the Iron Man suit.

Their first few meetings – a quick lunch, coffee, an excuse to show her some papers to lure her into believing that SHIELD was playing with an open deck – had been hilarious. She’d matched Phil step for step, word for word. Had not given anything without getting equal from him and one day, he’d huffed at her in exasperation and something more real had slipped into his features. _”Have you ever played Go, Ms Potts?”_ he’d asked. Pepper’d smiled, more genuine than she’d allowed herself before. _”I don’t play very often, Mr. Coulson”_

_“Pity. You’d make a formidable player.”_

_“One of the reasons I don’t play often is that I lack the time. I can’t just stop my work for a game with someone. Well… Except maybe with Tony, and I don’t play with Tony.”_

_“Why not? I’m sure you could give Stark a run for his money.”_

She’d smirked. _”First time we played, I wiped the floor with him. Last game we tried lasted throughout the night and after two days of no winner, we called it a draw and I let him buy me a car.”_

Phil had laughed, delighted. The story was true, but it made her look a better player than she really was. She wasn’t bad by far – strategy was her daily job, after all – but playing with Tony made her a truly formidable opponent. Her first win had mostly been due to surprise and Tony’s habit of underestimating people. She’d never beat him now, and it was no fun playing when the only gain could be a draw. Because she knew Tony. She knew how he thought and she knew all his tells, all his habits and most importantly she could predict his reactions.

She’d be able to counter his moves well, but catching him by surprise now that he _knew_ how good she was would be impossible. 

After that lunch with Phil, their interactions had thawed more into casual friendship than cold information-gathering. Of course, incidentally that had been the time Natalie Rushman had first appeared, but she’d forgiven Phil a while after she’d found out. It was his job, after all.

One day they had sat together in a small café, enjoying the early spring-sun. 

_”What’s wrong, Phil? You look like my accountant after an especially harrowing birthday-party for his granddaughter.”_

_“Nothing I can talk about, sadly. But if I look like that, it’s actually pretty close to the truth,”_ he’d answered, pushing a hand through his thinning hair. She’d let the subject drop and continued to chatter about unimportant facts most mentionable for their complete lack of Tony. It was one of her rules: never give away what they might ever use against him, even though she thought of Phil as a real friend. His own rule apparently included never asking, so it worked well for them.

It was in a moment of companionable silence that her phone rang, ‘Hells Bells’, so it clearly was Tony. She couldn’t remember what he’d wanted but he’d called to let her know that he was still in one piece, the suit was damaged and he needed to be picked up by a company jet from Colombia. They’d bantered, she’d asked if he was all right in an afterthought – every open concern would be downplayed and if she pretended she didn’t care, Tony pretended not to know that she cared and would give more truthful answers – and after the disconnect, she’d arranged the pickup quickly and efficiently, scribbling details into her small notebook and drinking her coffee. After finishing, she noticed Phil’s look.

_”What?”_

_“You know, our jobs are extremely similar. I’ve guessed, but I’ve never seen proof.”_

She hadn’t understood at once. 

_“The way you wrangle Stark is so close to handling my agents, it’s eerie. But you do it on top of loving him. I can see how much you love him, how much you care. It’s… I’m amazed that you can be so cool and efficient even knowing he puts himself in danger on a near-weekly basis.”_

Pepper had taken a moment, called the waiter for more coffee and let the sun shine on her face. Maybe Phil had thought she wouldn’t answer, but he didn’t interrupt the calm and quiet and let things lie. Phil was amazing like that.

 _”You know,”_ she’d finally answered _”I think the fact that I love him is the only reason I can. I wouldn’t be able to ‘handle’ Tony if I didn’t love him. I love him with and sometimes even for his issues, quirks and insane ideas, and if I stopped him doing his superhero-thing, I’d lose him. Maybe not physically, but in all the ways that are important. And if he needs to be out there, I’m damn well making sure he comes back. I couldn’t be as efficient if I didn’t care about him.”_

Phil hadn’t said more but he’d bought her a white rose later that day, on their way back. 

God, she missed him so much.

*****

In the early days, she’d learned a lot more from Stark than she’d ever admit. Tony was erratic and irritating on a good day, insufferable and immature on a normal day and bat-shit insane on a bad day, but he’d taught her very important things. Not just about him, but about people in general. Sadly, he hadn’t learned much about _good_ people until Afghanistan, so her own tries to teach him something in return always fell on disbelief. Nasty people, selfish people, though… she’d been taught about them by the master.

She’d paid attention and she’d learned a lot just by observation – how to counter sarcasm, how to work a single eyebrow, how to stare her boss into obedience, how to dress snappy and how to use clothes and demeanor to let people see what _you_ wanted them to see.

Some things, though, she’d gotten from Stark personally, and those she treasured like the gifts they really were.

 _“Never tiptoe. You’re here because you earned your place – don’t sneak about and don’t hide your light. You have every right to be the center of attention if you want to be, Ms Potts, and you certainly deserve it more than those floozies on the floor,”_ he’d said one day at some unspeakable gala. She’d worn a tame business-dress and done her hair in the most unapproachable and unassuming bun, trying to blend into the wallpaper. Hiding in a corner, uncomfortable with the sheer amount of beauty and money in the room, she’d startled when Stark slinked up to her from the side. For once, he hadn’t smelled of booze and his eyes had been clear though not on her but instead roaming over the heads and torsos of the attendees. _“They are butterflies. Pretty to look at, interesting to watch, but in the end, they’ll only live for a year at most.”_ He’d turned then and smiled at her. _“Don’t be a butterfly. Be the raven in the tree or the hawk in the sky. Be grand. You’re an eagle, Ms Potts. Act like it.”_

It had been one of the rare instances where he’d been dead-serious. She’d taken it to heart, and it had been … not the first step, but one of the greatest leaps towards becoming who she was now.

*****

In the years at Stark Enterprises, Pepper had learned to never apologize for Stark. She wasn’t Obadiah, who would throw out apologies left and right for every misstep Tony took.

As if Tony couldn’t do that himself. As if it would ever be taken seriously if the hurt party never got it from the horse’s mouth. Sure, _now_ she knew that’s partly why Stane had done it. Then, it had just felt wrong to her to excuse a grown man’s actions as if he were a child. Not to mention that he didn’t like it when she did. If Tony Stark ever wanted to, he could do it himself. He was smart enough and certainly capable. 

The fact that most people he insulted didn’t care one lick about him, his opinions and/or his reputation played a major role in her decision to let most of what came out of Tony’s mouth go. They weren’t even looking for an apology and wouldn’t know sincerity if it bit them in the ass. So they could go fuck themselves, please, as far as Pepper was concerned. Those that deserved an apology would get one; she always made sure of it. 

It was pretty telling that the first person she heard Tony apologize to had been JARVIS.

There had been others, though. And it was surprisingly easy to tell Tony whenever he stepped over a line. It was one of those interesting discrepancies in Stark’s behavior; he was insanely independent, adamant in doing what he wanted or, even more so, _not_ doing what others wanted. 

They wanted Tony to be a good example? He clearly saw it as invitation to do the opposite. They wanted him to stop drinking? He got raving-drunk. They wanted him to build new weapons? Suddenly, the well-project for Sudan was much more important to him. Try getting him to see a doctor for his black-bruised abdomen made him insist he was fine, but tell him the paper-cut was harmless and he’d act like he was seconds away from severe blood-loss. 

It was rather infuriating, since it had been Pepper’s job to get him to meetings, make sure he was on time and arrange to have his signatures under countless papers. She’d known he was mostly contrary for contrary’s sake, but it hadn’t helped her when there were deadlines to keep. Pepper had developed severe stress-headaches during the Matters-Marston-deal, which brought her to her knees one day to puke out her lunch. 

Tony had tried to be better after that; clearly apologetic and guilty that he’d caused her to be so sick. It had been … nice. Nice but weird, and she’d honestly been glad when he’d dropped back into his old ways after a few weeks. And if now she sometimes massaged her head and looked withdrawn when Tony was being exceptionally difficult, even though she was perfectly fine… well. She’d learned from the Master, hadn’t she?

Interestingly, underneath the desire to be his own man, Tony desperately wanted to be _someone_ for someone else. He wanted to belong in a way that Pepper had never wanted, not this adamantly. She knew that his parents had fucked that part of him up, though probably not intentionally. She hadn’t known the Starks, just their reputation, but people didn’t usually get _that_ desperate for attention when they had a loving, warm childhood. 

Tony wanted to belong to someone, to be part of something – so badly that he tried to hide that part of himself underneath sarcasm, crude humor and genius. He was afraid to show it to others, afraid that they would just use his weakness to exploit him. And it had probably been a valid fear, Pepper thought. After all, she’d witnessed how Stane had pulled the carpet underneath Tony’s feet with his betrayal, had been there during the aftermath which had been a nice addition to his issues from Afghanistan. And Stane certainly hadn’t been the first one. Remember that… woman from earlier? And those were only the people Pepper had met herself. There were bound to be more, much more. 

She’d understood, and in reply to his fear she’d kept herself distant and close at the same time. Not available for softness – not ever then, only now – but a rock to rely on, a steady influence, someone completely reliable… someone completely _his_. Not even his best friend was Tony’s as much as she had been, and he still wasn’t. The Air Force had Rhodey’s heart and soul, and while there was a big space left for Tony and he would take priority a lot more than was usual for an Air-Force Colonel, it could never be _just_ Tony Rhodey was loyal to. 

Pepper had a lot more freedom that way. If some day the US would kick Tony out or take away his citizen-rights or made him a fugitive… well. She had everything in order to just skip and leave. There were people who would take over her job if necessary – she’d trained and selected them herself and she was very, very thorough –and might have had help from Natasha, but no-one would ever know that – the employees were secured for at least a year without her at the helm and wherever she would have to go, she’d made sure she always had people owing her _huge_ favors. 

Some people would call that paranoia and probably crazy. She called it sensible, considering Tony’s hatred for secrets and his distrust of Military. Military in general. He had no problem with actual soldiers, as he’d say _“They ain’t The Military; they’re people”_. And don’t even start with politicians. 

As recent events had shown, it was easy to slip to the bad side of the alphabet-agencies. All it would take was a conscience at the wrong moment.

Good thing Tony had helped save the President – it gave him a bit more standing on the plus side. Then again, if people ever found out what exactly JARVIS could do… 

But down and dirty, the facts were these: if she had to flee to Russia with Tony, she absolutely would, without hesitation. And she’d already made sure their stay would be on their terms.

*****

One day, a few years into their work-relationship, a Tuesday, she’d watched him fiddle with his phone while the board committee went on and on about … she couldn’t remember, probably stock-prices. She’d seen him look up, look at Obadiah and then sweep his gaze over the rest of the room like he was behind a glass-wall and couldn’t figure out how to get to the people on the other side. He’d looked, for a moment, so incredibly _lost_ , a stranger in his own house, unimportant and dismissed from his own fate.

She’d felt some strange sense of familiarity wash over her – strange, because it _wasn’t_ familiar. She’d understood something that day, though the realization as to what exactly came only years later. 

More specifically, it came the day she first saw him flying in his suit. She’d seen him loop and weave through the air as if nothing could hold him, the sheer joy of it visible in every move he made. And everything had dropped into place, the perfect picture so clear that she would forever hit her head against a wall because it had taken her _so long_. 

Tony Stark was Peter Pan, so true to the story that it could have been written just for him. He was the ultimate Lost Boy, the kid no-one had wanted – or rather the kid that felt as if no-one wanted him, Barrie’s Pan hadn’t exactly been the smartest cookie in the box – and who escaped to a place of magic, where everything was possible and he would be king. 

Technology, intellect, inventions – that was Tony’s Neverland. His paradise, where he could be free of everyone and dismiss their feelings, not be bothered by them and their opinions. They didn’t affect him there, only he counted.

It had broken Pepper’s heart a little, and she’d found more and more parallels to the boy in the story – the boy who refused to grow up, who’d rather separate himself from the real world than try to fit into something that wasn’t made to bear him. The cocky, selfish attitude, recklessness and lack of fear when it came to his own health or the extreme loyalty he felt to those he held dear. And when he’d built his suit, when he’d taken that last step to complete the picture of Pan, he’d been _happy_. More so than ever before, even when it caused him pain, when it nearly killed him. Being able to fly, escape and be just himself and do what he wanted to do – what he felt was right… that was more important than his own life. 

When she’d first tentatively tried the dating-thing between them, Pepper had resigned herself to settle in the role of Wendy Darling – doomed to be left behind, forever in love with an uncatchable spirit but fated to grow up and thus separate the two of them. 

She’d been hurt at this outlook on their relationship and there might have been tears that no-one saw, but she’d rather have and lose than never have in the first place. So she’d set her shoulders and carried on.

When Tony suddenly started collecting more Lost Boys in the form of the Avengers – most importantly Bruce, who’d been so lost that he wouldn’t have been able to find himself at the time – she’d only been more certain of her fate concerning Tony, but this time it had made her angry.

She didn’t want to leave! Wendy had left; she’d foolishly given up on the best damn thing ever, and for what? Some boring existence in early 20th century-England? For being a good house-wife and mother in exchange for everlasting youth, strength and loyalty? She didn’t want to be Wendy fucking Darling, but she hadn’t seen a way out, couldn’t see a way to keep what was hers when it was inevitable that Wendy would leave Peter Pan.

Until that one day when she’d come home to find some of their Lost Boys in the common-room, tentatively caring for one of theirs who’d gotten the hard end of the stick. And something had snapped. She’d stalked right across the floor and _glared_ at Natasha with all the fury she’d felt for her. Natasha, who’d played around with what was Pepper’s, had endangered _her_ man and was therefore directly responsible for Tony’s inability to sleep uninterrupted for more than two hours. She’d been prepared to _rip her to shreds_ , no matter that Romanov was an assassin, had suffered quite a lot during their shared captivity and had looked bruised and broken right there on the couch, small and oddly vulnerable. Pepper hadn’t _cared_. She’d have gone for her throat if Barton hadn’t stepped in and pulled her away.

 _”You really don’t want to do that, Ms Potts,”_ he’d said, _”I would hate for having to separate you two. She doesn’t understand… I… I’ll make sure she does. This time, violence really isn’t a solution.”_

They’d gotten over that shit. It had taken some time for Pepper to be in the same room as Natasha, but in the end, the fact that Tasha had been too much of a lost soul to even get what she’d done wrong had just been too sad for Pepper to stay angry. 

But that day had shifted her view. So much so that when Killian had grabbed her as a trophy and injected her with a faulty nanovirus and she’d dropped into a flaming explosion and died in a very painful and horrifying and nightmare-inducing way, only to wake up not-dead… Well. Pepper hadn’t even given a second’s thought to crawling somewhere to lick her wounds. She’d stepped out of the flames and watched Tony be battered around and when the timing was right, she’d channeled her fury and gave Killian what he deserved. Admittedly, he’d deserved much worse, but Tony had been there, and she had to take care of Tony. 

The two of them licked their wounds together, later. And they would continue to do so, for years to come – some things you just don’t get over. You adjust and carry on. 

Pepper was amazing at adjusting. And Tony was learning, too.

The point, though, was that she wasn’t Wendy, had never been Wendy at all. She wasn’t the first woman to catch Tony’s interest like Wendy had been, and while she was pretty sure she was something very special, it wasn’t a Wendy-situation. She wouldn’t leave this life, these Lost Boys or the world of wonder that was all around her – not for anything and especially not for mediocrity. She’d stuck with Tony through all his shit, had mourned him when he’d been lost in the desert, had grabbed his sinking ship of a company and yanked it out of the depths. She would forever love him; and even if one day he’d wake up and find a different woman – no _way_! – she’d still be by his side. She’d die for him, fight for him, throw her own beliefs away for him. She’d take on a master-assassin, throttle a torture-victim – she’d _murder_ for Tony Stark.

She was no Wendy. 

Pepper Potts was Tinkerbell, and dare anyone to take what was hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there.   
> So, this story sat on my computer for a while because I fell out of the fandom and now I fell back in and thought "Why not post it?" Even years after writing it, I still think the characterization for Pepper makes sense, and so here it is. 
> 
> There's a bit of a strange thing in the middle where readers might go "What? What is happening?" and there's a backstory to that in my head but it's only half-done on my computer and I doubt it will ever get all-done. So, if anyone is interested, leave me a note and I'll tell you all about it ;-)


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